Alfonso Cuaron’s “Gravity” is the kind of intersection of art and commerce that movie studio executives dream about: a star-driven, visually intoxicating popcorn movie that will rivet vast crowds to their seats for its entire not-a-second-wasted 90-minute running time. And it will win awards on top of that.

“Gravity” was compared by some early reviewers at the Venice and Telluride festivals — before it bowed at the Toronto International Film Festival over the weekend to turn-away crowds — to Stanley Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

While it’s easily the most striking-looking film in outer space since that 1968 classic — Cuaron brilliantly deploys 3-D to heighten the astonishing, unworldly effects — “Gravity” is no cerebral contemplation of the universe, though I’m sure some critics will be calling it that. And not many people will be toking up to enhance their enjoyment like they did at “2001” some 45 years ago (at least not in theaters).

Rather, let’s just say that “Gravity” is perhaps the ultimate woman in peril movie. And that woman is flawlessly played by Sandra Bullock, as a physician making her first trip into space who gets a lot more than she bargained for. She and a veteran astronaut — George Clooney, who provides some much needed levity and exposition in a much smaller but crucial role — are the sole survivors of a horrifying space station accident that leaves them stranded in space, facing fields of lethal debris with the oxygen in their suits running out.

I’m not as worried about spoilers as some of my colleagues, but this is a very rare case where it’s worth keeping a film’s secrets. I think I can say that Bullock owns this mesmerizing film as much as its inspired director does. Expect Oscar nominations for both of them, as well as those responsible for the dazzling visuals.

“Gravity” opens on Oct. 4 and I’ll have a full review then. Order your tickets now for my favorite film of the year so far. Yes, it’s that good.